Identity
by The Cat Isis
Summary: Finished! Finally done, here's the last chapter! Dean can't keep his hands to himself and he runs into more statue trouble.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Identity Chapter 1 of ?

Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing

Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim

Notes: Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.

Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.

**Identity**

**Chapter 1**

My brother Dean is not the sharpest crayon in the box. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy. But there are times when I just want to smack him and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Like now for instance. Only right now, I can't. Why can't I you ask? Well, because it's partly my fault. See, the first time it happened, I wasn't very clear in my instructions. This isn't the first time? Nope. This is the second time. The first time happened 3 months, 1 week, 5 days, and 14 hours ago. But who's counting? After the first time it happened I said to Dean, "So the next time you find a statue in a field that has writing on it, DON'T TOUCH IT!"

Pretty simple right? Then you don't know my brother! The problem with that line is this…I was too specific. I said not to touch a statue that he found in a field. I didn't say anything about a statue he found, say, in a cult's abandoned barn. Dean's a little slow, so he didn't make the connection. And that was how it happened. I was looking through some texts that they had left behind when I caught sight of Dean out of the corner of my eye. He was looking at this statue, with some sort of hieroglyphs on it. And before I could even get out "Dean, don't you dare!" there was a blinding flash of light. Only this time, instead of finding my brother unconscious, when I could finally see, I found a child. Around 10 years of age. Excuse me, 10 and ½ as I would later be corrected. He looked quite confused as I'm sure I did.

"Dean?" I asked already knowing the answer. I started to laugh. My brother had just turned into a younger version of himself. This was priceless and worth YEARS of ragging on him! But then his eyes widened and his lip wibbled a little. And then he spoke, and I knew my day had gone to hell in a hand basket.

"Who are you?!? Where's Sammy? Where I am? What have you done to Sammy?!?"

Uh oh…that doesn't bode well for me.

"Dean? It's me, Sammy, remember? You touched the statue, now your short…well…shorter…"

Dean glared at me. "You're not Sammy! Now give me back my brother or my daddy will kick your ass!"

Whoa…um…ok so how do we fix this? If Dean really thinks he really is 10 then we have a problem.

"I'm 10 and a half you bonehead! Now give me back my Sammy and let us go before my dad gets here!"

Apparently I had spoken that out loud. That was the first of many times I had been pointed out the great 'and a half'. Apparently to a 10 year old that was a very important number. I tried to remember what Dean was like when he was 10. I seemed to recall him being incredibly smart, a know-it-all. I went to him with all the questions I could ask. He was also a pain in the ass. I don't remember that really, but I learned that rather quickly.

"Ok…look, remember when I was in pre-school? That one kid in my class got a birthday party, and I talked Pastor Jim into baking a cake and I made you a card? You said it was the best birthday ever. But it wasn't your birthday it was actually like 2 months after your birthday?" How the hell I remembered that, I don't know, but he still doesn't look like he believes me. "What were you doing right before you got here?"

Dean frowned as he thought about it. "Well, Sammy and I were playing hide and seek. I was hiding in the bathroom closet, under the bottom shelf. What's so funny?"

"Well I have a feeling that my Dean, your 28 year old version, just found himself in a very cramped spot."

Still frowning, Dean said, "How can you be Sammy? He's younger than me. He's only 6."

Sam sighed. "Well that's what we have to figure out."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side. "If you're Sammy, then where's dad? I won't believe you until I see dad!"

Ok, now I've got a problem, and how am I supposed to fix it? I can't exactly tell the boy his dad is dead. Yet I have no way of producing a John Winchester. I tried to think back to who we knew back then. Pastor Jim and Caleb but that wouldn't work. Maybe Bobby…

"Let me make a phone call. Dad's on a hunt, so he may not answer."

Dean frowned. "Dad always answers when I call. You're lying!!"

I put up my hands. "No it's a very important hunt. He's really in deep and can't always answer his phone. But I'm gonna try ok? He'll call back when he can."

Ok…now if Dean's not in this time…oh man I can't believe I'm ok with this thought…then I can call his cell phone and not get anything, but pretend I'm calling Dad. So I pushed the speed dial button for Dean, and sure enough got a "this number is not in service at this time" message. I went through the motions of leaving dad a message asking him to call back as soon as he could, because something had come up with Dean. When I flipped my phone closed, I looked over at him. He looked rather pathetic really. His jeans were pretty torn up, and his shirt looked like one he'd probably worn two years longer than he should have. Depending on how long this took, I was going to have to get Dean some more clothes. In the mean time, I needed to snap some pictures of the statue that Dean had touched.

"Ok, so we'll just have to wait for dad to call us back. In the mean time, I need to get some pictures of that statue to send to a friend. Then we can go back to the motel."

Dean shook his head and glared at me. "I'm not moving until dad calls!"

I sighed, wondering how I was going to get him to move.

"Do you know Bobby?" I asked him. He nodded. "Ok, I'll call Bobby, you'd recognize his voice, right? Ok good, I'll call him and let you talk to him. Ok? You know you can trust him."

He nodded, but hadn't let his guard down. I pulled out my phone and prayed that Bobby would answer.

"Hello?"

"Bobby? Hey, it's Sam. Listen, I've got a problem. Did you know us when Dean was 10?" I ignored him as he pointed out yet again he was 10 and a half. "You did? Well good, because well, I need you to tell 10 year old Dean that he can trust me. Now don't laugh! Man, I'm serious. Yes, he did. Exactly. Ok good."

I passed the phone over to Dean. I'm not sure what Bobby said to him, but he seemed to relax, a little anyway. When he handed the phone back I thanked him and then hung up. I looked at Dean.

"We ok now?" He gave a small nod. I could tell he was freaked out by all of this. Using my cell phone I snapped some photos of the statue being careful not to touch it. No sense in having both of our younger selves here. After that, I made sure to gather up all of our stuff, and then led my 'older' brother out to the car. As soon as he saw the car, Dean froze.

"How come you have the car and Dad's not here?" he asked.

Uh oh…good question. Well, I suppose this bit of truth wouldn't hurt him.

"Well, when you got old enough to drive, Dad let you have the car. He drives a pickup truck now."

His eyes lit up. "I get the car?"

I nodded and unlocked the trunk, tossing in the few things Dean and I had brought in with us, as well as a few things I had collected. After I got the Deans switched, we'd still need to finish tracking the cult. Dean went to the passenger side and climbed in. As I got behind the wheel, I heard his stomach growl.

"Hungry?" I asked and he nodded.

"Dad had gone out to get some dinner so I haven't eaten yet."

"Oh…shit…what's gonna happen when dad finds Dean there and you gone? Oh man I hadn't thought about that…" With a renewed sense of dread, I quickly headed back to the motel to get those photos emailed out. I needed to solve this and quickly, because I had a feeling my older brother may very well be killed shortly if John Winchester came home to find his son missing and a strange man in his home. After I got the pictures emailed I took little Dean down to the diner to get some food. As the time ticked by, I wondered vaguely if we would know somehow if Dean was killed in the other time, or if I would ultimately solve this mystery, only to bring home the dead body of my older brother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Identity Chapter 2 of ?  
**Rating:** PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing  
**Characters:** Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim  
**Notes:** Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.  
**Disclaimers:** I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.  
**Summary:** After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.

**Identity  
****Chapter 2**

I watched Sam pawing through some papers as we looked around the barn. I noticed something that caught the light of the flashlight I held. Sweeping the beam back across I saw a statue of sorts covered in hieroglyphs. I moved closer to get a better look at it. Now, I've got a good head for symbols and one of them looked kinda familiar to me, so I brushed the dirt off to get a better look at it.

And that's when my day went to hell.

There was this blinding light that seemed oddly familiar. I think I heard Sammy yell something that sounded like, "Dean, don't you dare!" But I'm not sure because all I could really hear was a roaring in my ears. Then the lights died down and I was suddenly very very uncomfortable. I forced my eyes open to find that I was bent like a pretzel, squeezed in under some sort of shelf inside a closet. Frowning, I pushed on the door which thankfully opened. I hauled myself out from under the shelf, wincing slightly as I stretched out my muscles. It felt like I should know this place, yet I couldn't really place it. I was in a bathroom, that much was obvious. I recalled words my brother had spoken to me a few months ago.

"So next time you find a statue in a field that has writing on it, DON'T TOUCH IT!"

Well, the statue hadn't been in a field…he hadn't said I couldn't touch a statue that was in a barn.

Sighing I started to open the bathroom door, deciding I should figure out where the hell I was this time. The door however opened on its own accord. A little kid ran in the room shouting "GOTCHA!"

However he froze upon seeing me. Granted I had the same reaction to seeing him. There's something about looking at your brother, roughly age 6 that will cause you to pause for a moment.

"Well shit." I said, not really knowing what else to say. When I spoke it seemed to unfreeze him.

"DEAN!!! THERE'S A STRANGER!! DEAN!!!"

I winced and put my finger to my lips. "Shhhh! It's ok Sammy, it's me, Dean, I'm just a bit older." I squatted down so that I was more on his level.

He had other plans as he took off out the door, the whole time yelling for me. Well this just sucks, doesn't it? As I wondered how I was going to convince my child brother that I was not here to harm him, I heard a sound that was all too familiar. I heard the Impala pulling up out front. Which meant that dad was home.

Oh God, I'm gonna die. He'll kill me before I can even attempt to explain. I debated hiding back in the closet and pretending this had never happened. But that wasn't really an option when I heard the front door open and I heard Sammy screaming at his dad about a stranger and Dean missing. Well hell.

I checked myself over real quick. I was still armed, and I had my wallet on me. That was a good start. I decided I didn't want to have this confrontation with my father in the bathroom, so I walked out into the hall. I didn't recognize the place since we moved around so much that no one place stuck out in my mind. I could hear John shouting for Dean now, and decided to just meet this head on. So I walked down the hall and just before I reached the doorway, put my hands up for good measure.

"It's really hard to explain, but I'm your son, Dean Winchester." I called as I entered the room. As soon as I could see him, my heart skipped a beat. I really needed to stop running into dead family members that weren't zombies. It was rather creepy. Dad shoved Sam behind him, and had a gun drawn on me in no time at all. As I had expected.

"What the hell have you done with my son?" he growled at me. Inwardly I flinched as that was the voice he reserved for things he killed. Even though I had heard it a thousand times, I had never had that voice directed at me.

"Look, I'm your son. I touched this statue. I think it caused me to travel back in time and so I bet your Dean is with my Sammy. He's so gonna kick my ass when I get back cause he told me last time not to touch any more statues. I can prove it I swear!!" I got a little panicky as I heard the safety click off.

"I don't care who you are. Where the hell is Dean?" As I watched the finger getting a little too twitchy on that trigger, I made a decision that could cost me my life. On the other hand, it could be the only way to save it.

"Look, I've got your son, and if you kill me, you'll never see him alive again." I silently prayed that he'd buy it, and it would buy me some time to think. I could see him hesitate and that was good enough for me. I continued on. "If you ever want to see him alive again, put down that gun, and any other weapon you may have."

I put on my best 'I'm dead serious' look and attempted to stare him down. Which is not easy when you've spent the vast majority of your life taking orders from that man. I could see the options turning in his head and I knew the moment he had picked one. He slowly clicked the safety back on, and lowered the gun. He put it on the coffee table, then stepped back, making sure Sam was still behind him, but not in front of the door.

"That's the only weapon I had on me. Now what did you do with my son." My heart did that weird flip/flop thing again which was really annoying. He looked truly scared, a look I never wanted to see on my father's face.

"He's safe for now. Why don't you send him up to his room, and you and I can talk."

I felt like a bastard as I saw the scared look on Sammy's face as well. He clutched at dad's leg and let out a whimper. "Daddy, I don wanna go."

John sank to his knees and pulled Sammy in front of him. "Sammy, I need you to be a big boy right now and go up to your room. Don't you come down until I come and get you ok? Can you do that for me?" Sammy nodded and took off running for the stairs. A few minutes later the door slammed shut. John glared at me.

"Who the hell are you...no you know what? It doesn't matter because I'm gonna kill you just as soon as I get my son back."

If looks could kill...well you know. I pulled out my own gun, just for my own safety. I made damned sure the safety was never off, though I hoped he didn't notice. I motioned for him to go and sit in a chair, well away from where his gun sat. When he complied, I picked up his gun, making sure to pull out the clip and empty the chamber before setting the gun back down.

"Ok, so here's the deal. I'm your son, Dean. I'm 28 years old. Your 10 year old son is with my brother Sam, 18 years in the future. Yes it's my fault, a fact I'm sure Sam will not let me live down. I don't know how to fix it, but judging by the last time Sam will figure it out and fix it. It just may take a few days. So we'll just have to wait for him to fix it. Now you can kill me and possibly screw the whole thing up and never see your Dean again, or we can call a truce and say that if Sammy hasn't managed to fix it in a few days, we'll rethink the whole thing."

He was studying me. In the same way Sam does when he thinks I'm hurt but not admitting it. It was rather unnerving.

"So why shouldn't I just waste you now, you nut case?" he asked.

Good question...

"Well, aside from the fact that I'm the guy with the gun right now, there's the fact that doing that could make it impossible for Sammy to send your son back to you. Look, I don't know how to convince you I'm Dean. I mean, what would it take? Ok look, here's something that only Dean, Sam, you and Pastor Jim would know. When I was 10 you and I went on a hunt. It was a simple one, dig up a corpse, salt and burn it, re-bury it. No big deal. Sammy stayed with Pastor Jim. When we got back in, Sammy greeted me with a birthday card and a chocolate cake. Even though it was March 1st and my birthday is January 24th. But Sammy didn't know when my birthday was because we never celebrated. So for years he thought it was March 1st and when he found out the truth he got very mad and didn't speak to me for a whole day. But I made you go out the next week and laminate the birthday card he made because I didn't want anything to happen to it."

I'm not sure at what point it changed, but I could tell we were closer to him believing me than we had been before. I tried to remember something else that might help.

"Oh! And Sammy had named this rabbit out back, and I was practicing my shooting one day, and I accidentally killed it. Sammy cried for a week, but he wouldn't tell you why he was so upset because I had made him promise not to tell, since I wasn't supposed to be shooting when you weren't home."

Dad frowned and leaned forward just a bit. Then all of a sudden he sat back in the chair with a bit of a wide eyed expression. "Dean?" I could hear the confusion in his voice.

I nodded, lowering the weapon. "Yeah dad. It's me. When all this gets fixed, you may want to teach me that I'm not supposed to touch statues. Ever."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Identity Chapter 3 of ?  
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing  
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim  
Notes: Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.  
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.  
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.

**Identity  
****Chapter 3**

"Ok, so let me get this straight. You're Dean you're just the 28 year old version. And my Dean is in the future with your brother, Sammy who would be, what, 24? And you touched a statue and it sent you back here. But this isn't the first time it happened, so Sammy will know how to fix it. Is that right?"

I nodded. "That about sums it up, yeah."

"What happened the first time?" he asked.

I blinked, not knowing what he meant but then realized what he was asking. "Oh, I touched this statue and it sent me to another universe. It was still me, but it wasn't. And it was really weird but Sammy fixed it."

Dad ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "How the hell am I going to convince your brother that you're not kidnapped? This could take days you said?"

I nodded. Yeah, this wasn't going to be fun. Especially since I had announced in front of Sammy that I had Dean. Hm…maybe I should've sent him to his room sooner. Oh well, too late now. I put my gun away, then sat down on the couch. Ok, so I was stuck, for a few days at least, with my dead dad and 6 year old brother. Fun times!

"Well I have to go tell him something. He'll be back down here soon if I don't. Wish me luck."

Dad got up and headed up the stairs. I heard him knock on the door and tell Sammy it was okay to open the door. It squeaked then closed again.

Something was bothering me about that symbol I had seen. I found some crayons and a piece of paper and quickly sketched it out. The other symbols I had seen had been hieroglyphs. This one didn't seem like it was though. I got up and started pacing as I tried to remember where I had seen it. I paused when I heard the door open again. Dad came down stairs shaking his head.

"That damned boy is too smart for his own good. He's not buying it. I tried to tell him that there had been a misunderstanding and that Dean would be home in a few days. He just keeps says you're a bad man who stole Dean."

Dad noticed the symbol I had drawn and picked it up. "What's this?" he asked.

"It's a symbol that was on the thing I touched. I was trying to get a better look at it. I know it from somewhere but I can't place it. You know what it is?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nope, never seen it before. But I know someone who might. I'll call Jim and ask him if he can stop by. Actually, it may be a good idea to take Sammy over to him. That might be better for him. I'll go get him packed."

I nodded and then sat down while I waited. About 10 minutes later Sammy and dad appeared at the top of the stairs. Sammy didn't look happy. He followed dad down and dad tossed a bag at me. I caught it as I stood up. Dad led Sammy out to the car and got him settled in the back seat. I ran a hand along the side of the car, then put the bag in the front seat and sat in the passenger side. It had been a long time since I had ridden in the passenger seat with my dad driving. When Dad got in and started the car, he gunned the engine and I smiled. I remembered that I always asked him to make the engine purr when I was little. The drive to Pastor Jim's was not long. Dad stopped to get some fast food for Sammy and himself. I declined as my Sam and I had eaten not too long ago.

When we got to Pastor Jim's house, Sammy was out of the car and at the door in no time. Dad quickly followed. As soon as he had opened the front door, Sammy began to tell Pastor Jim that Dean had been taken and I was the evil man who had taken him. Jim looked at dad with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll explain. Let me get Sammy settled first. He can introduce himself."

Dad picked Sammy up and took the bag from my hand. He headed back to where the bedrooms were. I put on a smile as I looked at yet another dead friend.

"Hi, you don't know me, but I'm actually Dean. I'm just 28 instead of 10. It's a long story."

I went in and sat down in what had been my favorite recliner.

Jim studied me for a moment then grinned. "You can't keep your hands to yourself can you?" he asked as he sat down opposite from me.

I shook my head as I pulled out the drawing of the symbol. I passed it over to him.

"Ya ever see that before?" I asked.

Jim studied it closely for a moment. He set it down frowning in thought. "Yes, it does look familiar, but I'm not sure. I'll have to do some research on it. Where did you see it?"

"Well, there was this statue. It had hieroglyphs on it, but it also had that. I know it's not a hieroglyph. I can't place it, but it seems familiar to me too. Well, when I went to brush some dirt off to get a better look at it, things got complicated."

"That's putting it mildly," Dad called as he walked in. "I got Sammy to sleep, but he'll be a pain till Dean is back. Well, our Dean that is."

I nodded. Sam could be that way sometimes.

"Well, you see if you can't figure out where that symbol comes from. I think it would be best to keep him away from Sammy until this all gets fixed. Give me a call when you have something. We'll be back at the house."

Jim nodded and I stood up shaking his hand. It felt weird to shake hands with a dead guy. Dad and I left and drove back to his house. The ride back was rather quiet, apart from the classic rock he had on the radio. Once back at the house, dad went into the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the fridge. He sat down at the dining room table. Following him, I grabbed one for myself and joined him.

After a few minutes of silence I sighed. "Well this is awkward..."

He shook his head a bit and looked at me. "I know I'm not supposed to ask, and you probably can't answer me, but I can't help but ask...Do we get it? The thing that killed your mom. We get it right?"

Well shit. What the hell am I supposed to say? No, we don't, you actually sacrifice yourself to save me. Thanks a lot you asshole...nope, that won't work. I stared silently at my beer while I contemplated what to say. I could tell him who has the colt. I could tell him about Sam and Jessica. I could do a lot of things, but what were the implications? What if I just told him everything, would I cease to exist? After all, I should've been dead. Maybe if I changed things, and dad killed the demon, maybe I'd get my family back, all together and happy. Maybe I could...

"No, I'm sorry I asked. Don't answer that Dean and that's an order. You should get some rest. We should get up early and do some research on this statue you touched, just in case Sammy doesn't come through." Dad stood up and grabbed his car keys. I didn't say anything as I watched him walk out the front door. I knew better.

Out of habit, I checked all the doors and windows, and then put down salt. After that was done I shut off the light in the living room and lay down on the couch. Sleep took a long time to come though, as I continued to think what would happen if I shared my knowledge with my dad.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Identity Chapter 4 of ?  
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing  
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim  
Notes: Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.  
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.  
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.

**Identity  
****Chapter 4**

After I got Little Dean some food, we headed back to the hotel. I let him have Dean's bed, first removing the sharp knife from under the pillow. Dean turned the TV on and flipped through till he found an old re-run of Star Trek. I opened the laptop to see if anyone had gotten back to me, but unfortunately no one had. I brought in some of the texts and papers I had gathered from the barn and began sifting through them. Feeling eyes watching me, I turned to find Dean not watching TV, but in fact staring intently at me.

"Need something?" I asked him. He shook his head and went back to watching Captain Kirk save the day. I shrugged and went back to the papers. Pretty soon I heard the bed creak, and he appeared at my side.

"So what are you looking at?" He asked as he sat in the chair next to me.

"Well, these are some of the papers that the cult Dean and I were chasing left behind. I'm pretty sure the statue he touched was something of theirs also, so I'm hoping to find reference to it somewhere in here."

"Can I look at those pictures of the statue?" He asked. Nodding I pulled out my cell phone, opened the photo gallery and handed it to him. I showed him what button to use to scroll through them. After a minute, he handed the phone back to me.

"Is there something I can do to help?" he once again looked over at what I was going through. I figured most of it would be over his head, but on the other hand, I'm sure he would be happy to help find a way to get back home. So I got up, and dug through our collection of random books until I found one that dealt with symbols. I opened the laptop and pulled up a picture that showed roughly the area Dean would've touched and handed him the book. Dean had a good head for symbols and things like that, so I figured his younger self would be no exception.

"Well, you can look through here, and see if you find any of these symbols listed. They look like Egyptian Hieroglyphs, so you might want to start there."

Dean nodded and opened the book. He took a pen and some paper to write on as well. I started going back over what I had been reading. It didn't seem like it had been that long, but when I looked at my watch it had been 3 hours. Little Dean was looking tired, but still working. I yawned and stretched my tired muscles.

"I don't know about you, but I think it's time to call it a night."

He looked up from the paper and nodded. "But we can get an early start again tomorrow. There are only a few that I haven't identified."

I looked at the paper and was surprised to see he had not only made notes about the meanings, but had drawn the symbol and put the meaning next to it. I smiled and motioned to the page.

"Good job on that. Now let's see if I can find something for you to sleep in." I went over to Dean's bag and dug through. I found a shirt that would work, since it was big on Dean to begin with, and some sweat pants. They would be way too big, but they had drawstrings so I thought it might work. He took them and disappeared into the bathroom. While he was gone, I changed into my own pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt before checking my email. It was still empty, so I shut the computer down and went through the process of checking the room to make sure it was secure. Once I was sure, I climbed into bed. Not long after, Dean came out. I'm proud of myself for managing not to laugh. I hid a smile as he re-checked all the locks and windows. He then climbed into bed.

"G'night Sammy." He said as he got settled.

I reached up and shut off the light. "Good night Dean."

I lay in bed, wondering what kind of trouble Dean was getting himself into this time. I woke up to the sound of sniffles. I frowned, trying to get my bearings. A quick glance at the clock told me it had only been about 3 hours since we had laid down. I glanced over at the other bed. Dean appeared to be curled up facing away from me. I debated whether I should say something or not. While I wasn't sure what Dean was like when he was 10, I knew what he was like now. And he probably hadn't changed that much in 18 years. I decided that I would let him be for the time being. I was sure it must be difficult for him, but I also knew he wouldn't want to talk about it. So I left it alone for now. I settled back on my side and once again wondered what Dean was up to. One thing was certain. When he got back he and I were going to have a long talk about nasty statues with strange symbols.

-----

I woke up to find sunlight shining in the room. I stretched and glanced over at the other bed. When I didn't see Dean, I sat up quickly looking around. He was sitting at the table with my cell phone and the book of symbols. I got up and walked over to see what he was up to. When I stood up, he glanced over at me before going back to work.

"I've identified all of the symbols except one."

I looked over the paper he had and was shocked to see the paper he had in front of him. He had identified all of the symbols in all of the pictures I had taken. There were over 100 symbols on the page. I frowned slightly.

"How long have you been awake?"

Dean shrugged and kept flipping through the book. There was one symbol he had drawn at the bottom of one of the pages, larger than the rest.

"I can't find this one. I've been through most of this book. Do you have any other ones? Maybe I can stop by the library later."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah, we'll do that after breakfast. You did good work on that Dean."

Dean dropped his head, but not before I saw him blush. He muttered something before getting up and heading into the bathroom. He soon emerged changed back into the clothes he had been wearing when arrived. I took my turn in the bathroom and when I was done, I grabbed the laptop and the paper Dean had been working on and shoved them all in a bag.

"Ok first off breakfast, then library. You ok with eating at that diner we had dinner at?" Dean shrugged, then nodded. He headed for the door and I followed making sure the 'Do Not Disturb' sign was on the door.

Breakfast was relatively quiet. The waitress gave us a slightly puzzled look, seeing as how the last time she saw me, I had Dean with me. The 28 year old version who flirted with her for most of breakfast. And now I had the 10 year old version, who was depressed as hell and pushing his food around the plate instead of eating it. Of course I recognized it for what it was. Dean was upset about something, and therefore not hungry. I tried to see if I could draw out of him what was wrong. Aside from the whole traveling 18 years into the future...

"Dean, what's the matter? Not hungry? Food not taste good?"

He didn't look up, but took a bite of the toast. "No, it's fine. I'm fine."

I started to call bullshit before I realized that wasn't really a good thing to say to a 10 year old. I settled on, "Dean, you're lying. I can tell, because I've spent my life with you. Now what's wrong?"

He looked up this time, and despite his attitude, I could see the fear in his eyes.

"Nothing, ok? Just leave me alone. Let's go to the library so I can figure out that last symbol and go home."

I had a feeling that he was scared he'd never get back home, but chose not to push it. Instead I flagged the waitress down to get our ticket, then paid for the bill while Dean headed out to the car. Under normal circumstances, Dean would've paid using one of his fake credit cards or last nights pool money, while I waited in the car for him. It felt weird seeing a child sitting in the car waiting for me. The drive to the library was short. When we were inside, I gave Dean his papers and pulled out my laptop. He immediately headed to the card catalog (Yes, this library was so out of date it still had one of those) and began hunting for more books to go through. I pulled up my email and was happy to see new mail. The first email I opened was from the same guy who solved our problem before. This time, he wasn't much help. He suggested it may have just been a design, and that perhaps the key lay in the hieroglyphs. The next email was a little more helpful. It suggested two cultures to focus on, Chinese and Mongolian. I got up and headed over to where Dean was looking on the shelf.

"I got a message from a good source. He said to try Chinese or Mongolian."

Dean pulled a book off the shelf, presumably the one he was looking for. He grinned as he held it up. It was some sort of Mongolian history book. Looks like he was already ahead of us. I smiled back and went back to my computer. While he looked for the answer to the last symbol, I tried to put the hieroglyphs in some semblance of order.

-----

I had been looking through books for the last 2 hours. I let out a sigh as I stretched. So far, the only books dad had on symbols had turned up nothing. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, then glared in the direction the snoring came from. Dad had come home about 1 in the morning, drunk as could be. I hadn't even thought about it, just got up, and went to help him as I had used to do. Upon seeing me, he had lunged, throwing a punch that I easily dodged. It took a while to get him to remember, but once he did, he kept asking over and over if we got the demon. I kept my mouth shut as I got him into bed. He fell asleep not long after his head hit the pillow. The last thing he said before he did was, "I know Dean that we kill it. We have to because it's the only option."

I rubbed at the sore spot on the back of my neck before getting up and wandering into the kitchen. There wasn't much in the way of breakfast stuff, so I settled on coffee. I could always go out and get something later on. As I was about to go sit back down and start in on the last book, the phone rang.

I debated answering it, but then heard from the direction of Dad's bedroom, "Dean answer the damned thing!"

I'm not sure if he meant for his 10 year old son, or me, but I answered it anyway. It was Pastor Jim.

"Dean? Well I think I got something for you. Are you at all familiar with I Ching?"

I thought for a moment. "Isn't that some kind of Chinese divination thing?" As I leaned against the counter sipping my coffee, dad came stumbling in. I braced myself for another round of "Let's forget the kid changed places" but he went for the coffee instead of me.

"Yeah basically. Well I think that the symbol matches something from that. The Well to be specific. It's stated as this, 'Now is the time to draw strength and inspiration from the past. Both from your own experiences and tribulations and that of your ancestors who have come before you. Learn from the past and build a better future.' I have a feeling that the combination of that, and something in the hieroglyphs is what caused this. Where was this statue located?"

"It was in a barn. Sam and I were on the trail of this cult. They were long gone but had actually left some stuff behind."

Jim was silent for a while. Dad had finished off his first cup of coffee and was going for cup number two.

"Well as far as the cult thing is concerned, I'm not sure what to tell you. That's really all I have right now. I'll keep digging though."

I thanked him and hung up. Dad looked at me questioningly and I gave him a rundown on what Jim had said. I sat down at the table again and stared at the symbol I had drawn. The cult itself had only been in existence for 3 years as far as Sam and I had found. Which meant it would be another 15 years before they would likely have created the statue. Assuming they had been the ones to create it and hadn't simply found it and used it. I couldn't remember the hieroglyphs that were on it so I had no way of knowing what they translated as. In other words, I had hit a dead end. My only hope was Sam figuring out what it all meant. Dad joined me at the table. He had his journal out and was flipping through it. As I watched him make a note in it, likely something from his last hunt it hit me. Sam had dad's journal. Anything thing he put in the journal would be there when Sam looked at it. I grinned as I picked up a pen.

"Dad, I need to borrow that." I pulled it over to me and flipped through till I found a blank page. Dad frowned as he watched me.

"Jim identified the symbol, I knew it was familiar, Sam now has your journal. If I add an entry, it will likely show up the next time Sam looks for it."

I quickly sketched out the symbol, wrote out what Jim had said, and then wrote Sam a note.

"Sammy, I hope like hell you get this. This is the meaning of the symbol on the statue that I touched. Pastor Jim figured it out. He said it might be a combination of that and something in the hieroglyphs. Hope this helps, Dean. PS I promise to never touch anything if you fix this!"

I passed the notebook back to dad and smiled.

"Sammy'll see that, and he'll have it all fixed in no time, just you wait."

I noticed dad had a weird look on his face and frowned. "What? It's a good plan, best one we've had so far."

He shook his head then looked down at the journal. "Why does Sam have my journal?"

Oh shit...what the hell have I done? Too late to change it, I had to come up with a convincing argument for him. Something that he would buy but wasn't the truth...

"I...You um...they have these things now, called Laptops and well, we got you upgraded to a laptop it's like a computer only its portable. Anyway Sam, well you know how he is, he likes to do things the old fashioned way, so you gave him your journal when we got you the laptop."

I mentally kicked myself while I held my breath to see if he'd believe me or not. He looked at me, and I could tell he didn't buy it, but he didn't push the issue, instead nodding and sipping at his coffee.

I let out the breath I had been holding before getting myself more coffee. I hoped Sammy would fix this soon because I wasn't sure if I would be able to keep this up for much longer. The more I was around Dad the more I wanted to tell him everything. I was staring at the opportunity to fix everything that had been wrong. Yet if I told him, it could screw up the whole world. Ok maybe that was an exaggeration but still, it would be bad. Dad sat watching me, but I avoided looking at him as I finished pouring my coffee.

"After you finish that, we should go for a run. Since all we can do is wait. Then maybe some sparring, so I can see how good you are as an adult."

He turned and walked away and I groaned. I wasn't out of shape, not by a long shot, but it had been a long time since I had just gone for a run. Not to mention the fact that I did not look forward to sparring with him. And I also only had what I was wearing. No spare clothes to change into that wouldn't be all hot and sweaty. As if reading my thoughts, Dad reappeared with a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. He tossed them on the table and wandered off presumably to change himself. I sighed and finished my coffee, then grabbed the clothes and went into the bathroom to change. It was going to be a long day unless Sam came up with a solution.

When dad came back out, I was re-lacing my biker boots. He looked at them, but didn't say anything.

"How does a short 3 mile run sound?"

Too damned long? I nodded knowing it was useless to argue. Arguing would probably end up with a 5 mile run or worse. We set out for our run and as we passed the first block I knew I would have blisters before all was said and done.

Sammy, could you hurry this along please?


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Identity Chapter 5 of ?  
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing  
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim  
Notes: Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.  
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.  
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.**

**Identity  
****Chapter 5**

Dean had gone through 3 books and come up with nothing. I myself had been through all of the pages I had gathered and found nothing of use. I stretched and let out a groan. I had been hunched over the table for hours without moving much. I told myself we needed a break, to re-group, get some lunch then get back at it. I decided we'd go back to the motel and order a pizza. I looked over at Dean who looked up at the same moment.

"We need a break, how about we get a pizza and go back to the motel for a while?"

He sighed. "I guess." He got up and picked up his papers, placing them with the laptop. I once again stuffed them into the bag and looked around for a phone book.

"What do you want on your pizza?" I asked. Without looking up, Dean muttered, "Whatever," and headed towards the door. I walked to the phonebook, looked up the nearest pizza placed and called in an order. I figured he'd probably like the same things no matter what his age was so I ordered what we would have normally and walked out. He was already at the car waiting, so I unlocked it and we climbed in. After we picked up the pizza and some drinks, we went back to the motel. He sat and ate in silence, and I noticed he picked off the black olives. Must have been something Dean picked up in his later years. Oh what an odd thought that was. I could tell something was bothering him, and I wondered if it was the whole time travel thing, or something else. Finally I decided to approach the subject.

"Dean, what's wrong?" He looked up guiltily and shook his head. "Nothing." I knew better.

"Liar. What's up?"

"Why hasn't dad called?" He looked really concerned.

Aw shit. In the hunt for getting Dean back, I had forgotten all about my fake phone call to dad. Of course there would never be a return call. So Dean would worry, because dad wouldn't have gone this long without checking his messages, and he would've called by now. Shit, what the hell was I going to do? I wasn't sure how long I could keep up the lie about him being on a hunt. But it was my only option so I had to run with it.

"Well Dean, like I said, he was in deep on this hunt. I'm sure he just hasn't had a chance to get to his phone. After all, you're 28 now and I'm 24. We're both old enough to go on hunts by ourselves. Sometimes when we're all too busy it's days before we talk to him. Honestly Dean it's nothing to worry about."

He still looked concerned, but nodded. We both went back to eating our pizza.

When I was finished, I decided to look through dad's journal to see if I could find any other contacts that might be able to help. When I opened it up and started flipping through, I caught sight of a page I didn't recognize. I frowned. It had Dean's writing on it, and at the top was the same symbol that Dean hadn't been able to figure out. I stared at it for a full minute before it actually sank in. Of course! Dean was in the past. Anything that he added to Dad's journal I would be able to see, because it had happened in the past. I couldn't leave him messages, but he could leave them for me! I grinned as I read what he had written. I laughed as I read his post script. He had better not even look at another statue for as long as we lived. Dean looked up when he heard me laughing.

"You left me a note." I told him. He got up and walked over to see what I was looking at. As soon as he saw the journal he freaked.

"Why do you have dad's journal? He never goes on a hunt without it! Why do you keep lying to me?"

I had no idea what to tell him. Finally I settled on a half truth.

"When Dean was old enough to hunt on his own, dad gave this to him. Dad has a new one, but he wanted to give Dean this one. That's why we have it. But look, he left me a message. He figured out what that symbol is. It's an I Ching symbol that stands for the Well. It says 'Now is the time to draw strength and inspiration from the past. Both from your own experiences and tribulations and that of your ancestors who have come before you. Learn from the past and build a better future.'"

When I read that he had gotten the information from Pastor Jim I frowned. That was when it hit me that Dean was once again faced with dealing with people that in our time were dead. He hadn't spoken at all about his last experience. Not for a month. Finally one night after he and I had finished a hunt successfully we went out to have a few beers to celebrate. Dean had one too many and I had to drag his drunk ass home. He admitted to me how much he hurt after seeing mom and dad, alive and happy together. He denied any knowledge of the conversation the next morning and we went back to pretending it had never happened. Now it seemed Dean was having to interact with Pastor Jim as well as dad. I sighed. We needed to get this fixed and soon.

"Ok, so let's go over the hieroglyphs and see if we can come up with a meaning that matches that." Dean nodded and quickly went to get his papers. When he returned, he and I sat and went over everything he had. I hoped like hell we would come up with a solution before the night was out.

--------

I wanted to die, but kept that to myself. After our 'short' 3 mile run which I swear was longer than that, dad and I had ended up back at the house. We got a drink, before heading out back to spar. My feet were killing me, but there were too many twigs and branches to do this barefoot. I knew that soon I would have an interesting collection of bruises to take back home with me. Dad never sparred light, it was always full contact.

We faced each other and I waited for him to make the first move. When he didn't I got impatient, just wanted to get this over with, so I took a swing. That was stupid. He easily blocked it, then got in a good kick of his own before moving back out of range. I told myself to focus, then looked for an opening.

It wasn't long before he gave me one and I took it. It was however a trick and I ended up on my ass for my trouble. Growling I hauled myself up, intent on getting in at least one good hit. Dad was having none of that, then started in with the critiquing.

"You're letting your guard down on the left too much. You're wide open when you drop your hand like that." He punctuated that with a good hit to the left side of my head. When the bells finally stopped ringing and my vision cleared I doubled my efforts to keep him out of reach.

I'm not sure how long we were out there, but when he finally called it quits I had landed 4 good hits and several good kicks. He on the other hand...well on top of the blisters I was sure I would have a hell of a lot of aches and pains when I woke up. I wondered what Sammy and my alternate self were up to.

Lunch consisted of Mac and cheese that I made when I got hungry enough. I made two boxes and it was a good thing because Dad and I polished it all off. After lunch I sat down and went over the note I had written to Sam.

"Now is the time to draw strength and inspiration from the past. Both from your own experiences and tribulations and that of your ancestors who have come before you. Learn from the past and build a better future."

I wondered what that meant. Was I truly supposed to learn something from this? Something that would help me build a better future? Well, one way to do that would be to give Dad the information he would need to kill the damned demon. Or somehow leave myself a note that would help us in the fight later. But I couldn't do that. The world would implode or something. Ok maybe not, but it wouldn't be good. So what was I supposed to learn? I sat and drew the symbol out, then sketched over it again. Somehow I had a feeling there was a lesson to be learned. And it wasn't 'Don't touch the statue.'

I picked up a pen and added more to my note to Sammy.

"Sam, I have a sinking suspicion that I'm stuck here until I learn something. I don't know what it is yet, and I'm not sure how long it's going to take but I really think that's the only way to solve this. The thing says to learn from the past and build a better future. Hope I can figure that out soon. Until then, stay safe and keep me safe, will ya? Dad'll kill me if I don't get me home to him soon."

I closed the journal and stood up. I winced as a few places protested moving. So I needed to learn something from the past that would help me build a better future. What the hell could I possibly learn? After all, this was my past, and I had lived it. I heard dad talking on the phone, it sounded like he was discussing a job with someone. That would be good. If he left on a hunt, maybe I could have a chance to think about this. On the other hand, if I was supposed to learn something from him...shit. But what could there be to learn? After all, I had already learned everything I could from him. There was really nothing left for me to learn. I rubbed a hand over my face and sighed. I decided a nice long hot shower was in order so I grabbed my only other change of clothes and headed towards the bathroom. Thankfully I was able to shut off my brain for a while and just enjoy the hot water beating down on my tired muscles. All too soon I heard dad banging on the door telling me to stop wasting water. I sighed as I shut the water off. Once I was dried off and changed I headed out to find Dad sitting at the kitchen table. I grabbed myself a beer and sat across from him.

"We're going on a hunt, we leave in half an hour, be ready." I stared at him for a moment with an eyebrow raised, then started to say I couldn't do that but he was already up and out of the room.

I sighed and contemplated what would happen if I went on a hunt with him. I supposed it wouldn't really hurt anything. As long as I didn't change the outcome of the hunt it should be just fine.

I wondered briefly what I should do to get ready. All I had were the clothes on my back, a gun, and 2 knives. So I remained sitting at the table to wait for him. It wasn't long before he came in dropping a bag on the table.

"So what exactly are we hunting?" I needed to see if I remembered this hunt or not.

"There are some nasty ghosts playing havoc on the owners of a motel. They just remodeled it and apparently pissed off a few ghosts in the processes. They had kinda known about the ghosts before, but now they've become violent. I've been researching the history and I think I know who the ghosts are. We need to go salt and burn the bodies tonight and that should take care of it. But we'll sweep the motel after we're done just to make sure."

The hunt didn't ring a bell, and it didn't sound all that bad, other than I had a feeling I'd be doing most of the digging. I nodded and we headed out, him driving. It was fully dark by the time we arrived at this old cemetery on the outskirts of the town. Most of the headstones were dated in the late 1800's to early 1900's.

Hours later we had salted and burned three corpses. I was tired, sweaty, and sore as hell. After we cleaned up, we headed to the motel. Dad talked briefly with the night clerk and found that the few rooms that had the highest level of activity were vacant. She gave us a key to the rooms and we set off to check them. There were 10 rooms we had to go through. Dad decided we should split them up, so I took the ones on the right side of the building while Dad took the left. All we really had to do was make sure there were no signs of the ghosts and since they had been active every night after it got dark, that wasn't hard to do. I opened the first door and walked through the room. EMF picked up nothing, and I didn't get a TV thrown at me, so I decided it must be clear. I cleared 2 more rooms, then entered the fourth room. As I stepped into the room I knew there was going to be a problem. It was freezing and the door slammed shut behind me. I had brought a gun loaded with rock salt, which of course is useless when the gun is flung in the opposite direction as you are. I found myself pinned to the wall and muttered a curse. Ok well that sucked. So we had obviously missed something, or rather someone. I tried to pull myself from the wall. I pulled my upper body off when I felt something grab my shoulder.

"What the…" I didn't have a chance to finish that as I was thrown across the room. I hit the TV and we both crashed to the floor. Unfortunately I landed on the bottom of the pile. The TV was thrown off me a moment later and I thought perhaps dad had shown up. I was wrong however. The hand I felt on my arm wasn't Dad's. I was flung again, this time landing against the large mirror. I hit the floor in a rain of glass. I groaned and picked my head up then grinned when I saw the shotgun loaded with rock salt. I grabbed it at the same time I felt a hand on my ankle. I turned and fired at what I hoped was the ghost. There was a shriek and I took the opportunity to jump to my feet. The door swung open and dad charged in.

"What the hell's going on?" He asked as he looked at the damage in the room. I quickly shoved him out the door and it slammed behind us.

"We missed one and it's pissed." I explained as I brushed glass off. Dad swore under his breath before turning to stomp off down the hall. I followed behind him, the adrenaline still pumping. I knew later I would be sore from my hits but for now I was feeling no pain. Dad informed the night clerk that we had missed something and not to go in the one room. He told her we would have to do some more research, but would be back. We loaded up the car and headed back to the house. Half way through the drive the adrenalin wore off. I shifted in the seat as I felt a throbbing in my lower back. Dad glanced over.

"You hurt?" he asked.

I figured that the run, the sparring, and getting tossed around a motel room had finally caught up with me. I shook my head and dad dropped it. I apparently dozed off because I didn't remember much of the rest of the trip. Dad nudged my arm when we got back to the house.

As soon as I moved to get out of the car I knew there was a problem. My shirt was stuck to my back. I winced and headed inside. I went straight to the bathroom and attempted to pull my shirt off. I found that to not be an option.

"Fuck!" I yelled. Dad appeared in the bathroom door.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Uh…well…I think it may be worse than I thought." That was the last thing I remember saying before my legs decided to turn to rubber and I hit the floor. I saw a look of concern on dad's face, and then I saw all black.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Identity Chapter 6 of ?  
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing  
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim  
Notes: Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.  
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.  
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.

**Identity  
****Chapter 6**

After an hour of looking at hieroglyphs, I called a break. I glanced back at the journal and found the added note from Dean. Despite what he said, I wasn't going to give up trying. I didn't want the younger Dean to see it however, and so I decided to take him out shopping. He needed clothes that fit well and I was going to make sure he at least went home wearing something nice. Dean however didn't like that plan.

"I'm not gonna be here long enough to need clothes! We're gonna figure this out tonight, and then I'll be back home. We need to keep working, not go shopping!!" He stood looking up at me, arms crossed jaw clenched. I tried not to laugh. Instead I went for stern.

"We need a break and you need something that fits. We're gonna get you some clothes and then we'll go back to work."

"Don't expect me to try stuff on!" I nodded and we headed to a thrift store I had seen in town.

Clothes shopping with my 10 year old older brother is an experience I will be glad to never do again. I kind of understood why Dad never took us shopping that often. Dean's refusal to try things on lasted long enough for me to really consider calling it quits. Then I put my foot down and told him that he was trying them on and once he found a pair that fit right we would leave. That seemed to help. He only had to try on 2 pairs of pants before we found one that fit him well. I bought him a new t-shirt, a Led Zeppelin one, and a heavier flannel over shirt. I also got him some sweat pants and a larger oversized shirt to sleep in.

Once we got back to the motel room, we went back to looking at hieroglyphs. So far everything coincided with the I Ching symbol. All of a sudden I noticed Dean stiffen and grimace.

"What's wrong?" I asked. He shook his head, then let out a whimper. He stood up and walked into the bathroom. I followed behind him. He lifted the back of his shirt to reveal a very nasty looking cut on his back. We both stared at it, then I jumped and grabbed the washcloth. I pressed it against the wound and tried to calm down. He had been sitting still and there was nothing around for him to cut himself on. I wondered if my Dean had a similar cut. I also noticed some bruises.

"Did the bruises just appear?" I asked. He shook his head. He was looking very pale. I decided to question him about that later. In the mean time, I needed to get the bleeding stopped.

"Ok, sit down on the toilet there. Good, ok now hold that against your cut, can you do that?"

He nodded again and held the wash cloth. I ran out to the car and got out our first aid kit. I flipped it open on the bed and muttered a curse under my breath at my brother. I don't think condoms are a necessary item in a first aid kit. I pawed through it, pulling out some antibiotic ointment, a gauze pad, some tape, and some butterfly Band-Aids. I walked back in and he stared at me with wide eyes.

"How'd it happen?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"I'm not sure. I…I'm thinking that maybe something happened to my Dean. I don't know. Let me see how bad it is." I slowly peeled the washcloth away from the cut. It was about 4 inches long, and was fairly deep. It was bleeding a lot, so I decided that it would be best if we did this while he was lying down. I got him settled on one of the beds, a towel underneath him. I cleaned it as best I could, and then I used the butterfly Band-Aids to close it as best as I could. Dean managed to glance behind and look at the cut.

"It needs stitches," he said.

I had known that, but hoped not to have to stitch him up. We were low on things for pain, and I really didn't know how much I could give him. I had alcohol, but didn't want to give a 10 year old whiskey. I looked at the cut again. If he tossed at all during sleep he'd easily pull those, even with gauze over it. I sighed.

"I don't know what to give you for the pain." He shrugged slightly.

"I can have some alcohol. Dad let me when I had to get some stitches once."

I mentally argued with myself about the idea, but ultimately decided he really did need stitches. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured him a small amount. He raised an eyebrow.

"I can have more than that." I sighed and added a little bit more, then helped him sit up so he could drink.

He drank it down very quickly, then closed his eyes as he let it take effect. We got him settled back down on his stomach and he was snoring slightly in just a few minutes.

I pulled out a needle and the thread and worked as quickly as I could. Once I had gotten it stitched up, I put some antibiotic ointment on it, and taped a gauze pad over it. I left him sleeping as I got everything cleaned up. I went to the journal to see if there was an explanation, but found nothing new. I sighed and settled in for a long night of worrying. I kept watch over Dean as I wondered about the bruises and what had happened to my Dean.

-----

I stood staring at Dean, wishing he'd wake up soon. I had just finished putting stitches in his back. I was pissed but mostly at myself for not noticing he was bleeding earlier. But when I had asked him if he was hurt, he had told me no. I started pacing again, wondering why he hadn't said anything. I supposed at first he may not have felt any pain because of the adrenalin, but it should've hurt like hell on the drive back. I stopped pacing and looked again at my son. Not only was I worried about him, but I was worried about my real son, my 10 year old Dean. Where was he, how was he handling this? I went to the bathroom and got a cold, wet washcloth. I came back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. I brushed his hair out of his face and put the washcloth on his forehead. I may not say it often, but the boys were my world. It killed me to see either of them hurt, even if it was just a scraped knee. I'd never tell them that, just tell them to suck it up and keep going. His forehead was very hot and he had been sweating and I wondered briefly if he had a fever. As I sat there watching over him, the phone rang.

"Yeah?" I wasn't in the mood for phone calls.

"John? It's Jim. How are things going?" He sounded frazzled and I imagined that Sammy was giving him trouble.

"Dean's hurt." I sat down on the couch in the living room.

"What? When did he get back? Or do you mean the older one? What happened?"

"One question at a time. I mean the older one. We went on a hunt, should've been easy, I already knew who the ghosts were and we just had to salt and burn the bodies. We did that but I wanted to double check the place. When we did, he found a room that still had activity. It threw him around a bit before I got there. I guess it threw him into a mirror cause I had to pick out the glass from the cut. He didn't say anything, Jim. I didn't know he was hurt. By the time we got back to the house he'd lost a lot of blood. I stitched him up, but he's not awake right now."

Jim sighed. "Why did you go on a hunt, instead of trying to figure out how to get him home?"

"He was working on that, but said Sammy would fix it. He's done this before so I figured I'd let Sammy fix it on his end. He probably has to do something with the statue, since Dean said that's what happened last time. It was an easy job so I figured with the two of us it would go by a lot faster. I don't know who that other ghost was, or if it was even a ghost. I suppose there could've been a poltergeist or something. I don't know Jim, I just didn't think it would be like that. How's Sammy holding up?"

Jim chuckled. "He's a little hellion as always. He wants his brother back and asks me almost hourly when Dean will be back. He also asked why you didn't just kill the bad man who had taken his brother. I think though I've worn him down enough to stop thinking of the older Dean as a bad man. He's fine John, just a little confused."

I heard movement behind me, and turned to find Dean leaning against the hall. He was looking very pale and still sweating.

"Jim, I need to go, Dean's up, I'll call you back later, ok?" I didn't wait for a response, but quickly hung up. I stood and walked over to him.

"What are you doing up?" I asked as I put my arm around him, intent on getting him back into bed.

"Thirsty, it's hot. What happened?"

I led him back down to the bedroom. "You got cut, lost too much blood cause you didn't tell me sooner. I think you have a fever. I'll get you a drink and something to take for that."

I got him settled back in bed, then got a glass of water and some Tylenol. While he was awake I checked the gauze. He had bled a little more, but nothing like he had before. He drank a lot of water and took the Tylenol, then laid back down and closed his eyes. When I was sure he was asleep I once again got a washcloth and placed it on his forehead. He was still very hot and sweating. I sighed.

"God kid, I don't know what to do. You said we can trust your brother to fix this, but I just don't know. It's been 2 days, and I know you're my son, but I miss my 10 year old boy. I hate not knowing where he his, I mean, I'm sure Sammy is keeping him safe. But he's not here with me and that just isn't right. I guess I just don't know how much longer I can take not having my sons with me. And while I'm not sure what happened, I get that I'm not there anymore. I'm sorry that I'm not there for you and your brother."

I closed my eyes and just listened to the steady, even breathing. Dean was safe, with Sammy and I know Sammy won't let anything happen to him. In the mean time I needed to make sure I didn't send Dean back in a much worse condition. I got up and took the washcloth into the bathroom then made sure there was a full glass of water on the night stand and more Tylenol. After that I headed to bed myself.

-----

My heart clenched as I listened to what my dad said. I knew he thought I was asleep, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him differently. I wanted so badly to tell him what happened, but I couldn't. I wanted to tell him about the demon, and Jess, and Sammy's visions, and everything so that maybe he wouldn't be dead when I got back. But there was no guarantee that it would change anything. Or that I would have a future to go back to if I did that. So I kept my eyes closed, my breathing even, and listened to him. When I heard him leave, and once I was sure he had gone to sleep I rolled gently onto my good side. I curled up and fell asleep deciding that tomorrow was soon enough to start thinking, but tonight I was too damned tired.

-----

Dean slept all the way through the night, but I hardly got any sleep. I sat awake watching him sleep. I was bound and determined to solve this and get my Dean back. So I worked all night on the remaining hieroglyphs. By the time morning arrived I was no better off. Dean woke up with a groan and I was at his side instantly.

"How are you feeling today?"

Dean gave me a look I was all too familiar with. "Like I got used as a punching bag one too many times."

I frowned as I remembered the bruises.

"Where did you get those other bruises?"

Dean shook his head as he sat up gingerly. "I don't know they just showed up. My feet are killing me too. I think that whatever happens to Dean in the past is happening to me too."

I wondered what he was doing to warrant bruises and a cut that bad. I also wondered if it had something to do with Dad's reaction to finding his son missing. I had a momentary chill at the thought of what Dean would be like if I got him back after he had been attacked by dad. But then I suppressed that and focused instead on checking the wound. It looked good, all things considered. He chose to put on an old shirt of Deans instead of his new shirt though. One that already was soaked in Dean's blood since he used it frequently for the same reason. I knew I couldn't take him out in public bruised and bloody so I left him in the room and went out for breakfast. When I got back he was reading over my notes from last night.

"Did you sleep?" he asked as soon as I walked in. I nodded, setting his food on his bed and taking mine and my coffee to the table. I flipped open dad's journal just to see if there was anything new. To my surprise there was a note from dad on the same page that Dean had written on.

"Sammy, I don't know if this works or not, but I thought I should warn you. Your brother got hurt, it's not serious but he waited a while to tell me and it got infected. He also lost a lot of blood. He seems ok, but in case you solve this and he shows up unconscious that's why. I see what he wrote above, and I wish I could say that I know how to fix this, but I really don't. Take good care of your brother, both the younger one and the older one when you get him back. While he hasn't said anything, I get the feeling that I'm no longer alive in your time. For that I'm sorry. Just remember that I've always been proud of you boys and I know I always will be. I think I hear him up now, so keep working on your end to fix this, and hopefully somehow we'll get it fixed. Dad"

I didn't realize I was crying until Dean appeared with a worried look on his face. I quickly closed the journal.

"It's nothing, just a note from dad saying that Dean got hurt. I guess you really are suffering the same injuries as he is. I promise you we'll get this fixed soon. One way or another."

Dean nodded and went to finish his breakfast. I sipped my coffee while my brain processed everything. Dean was hurt, and so somehow his younger self was as well. Dad had somehow figured out that he wasn't alive anymore in this time, but I had to make sure that stayed away from the younger Dean. I sighed and contemplated ways of getting them switched.


	7. Chapter 7

It's done it's done it's finally done!!!!! I give you the final chapter of Identity, enjoy!

Title: Identity Chapter 6 of ?  
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing  
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim  
Notes: Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.  
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.  
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.

**Identity  
****Chapter 7**

I woke to the feeling of being poked in the leg. I sat up, wincing as that pulled on the stitches. There at the foot of my bed was my 6 year old brother. I frowned, wondering if I was perhaps dreaming.

"You talk in your sleep mister." He said, glaring at me. When I didn't say anything, he poked me in the leg again.

"Sammy, quit that!" I said, moving my leg. "What did I say in my sleep?"

He grinned as only an evil little brother can and replied, "I'm not tellin'!" I sighed and wondered what I had done to deserve this.

"Why are you here?" I asked him as I settled back down into the bed. He sighed.

"Pastor Jim had somethin' he had to do. I had to come back home. Why didn't Daddy just kill you? And when are you gonna bring me back my brother?"

My back hurt, I had a headache, still felt like I had a fever, and was not in a mood to deal with my baby brother. Especially not when said brother was 18 years younger than the one I was used to. And what was I supposed to tell him?

"Look Sammy, I can't really explain this, but you have to trust me that your brother is safe. No one is going to hurt him and he'll be back soon, I promise."

Sammy frowned at me, then walked around so that he was standing on the left side of the bed. He held out his hand, pinky extended.

"Pinky swear that my brother is ok? And that you'll bring him home soon? I really miss him, he keeps the bad things away."

I smiled and wrapped my pinky around his. "I swear." Sammy nodded then darted out of the room. I closed my eyes, a smile on my lips. Sleep was what I needed. And hopefully this time I wouldn't talk in my sleep.

-----

I had started to tell Sammy not to bother the sleeping Dean, but I was too late. So instead I hid just outside the door and watched my 6 year old interacting with his 28 year old brother. When Sammy made him pinky swear, I almost wasn't able to stop myself from laughing out loud. The expression on Dean's face was priceless. I wasn't at all surprised that Dean tried to appease Sammy, I could see it in my 10 year old son that Sammy was his whole world. Sometimes it was disturbing to watch the two of them together, but all in all it was good for them both. After I was sure Dean was out I stepped into the room and watched him sleep. Sammy had been right, Dean had been talking in his sleep. But thankfully Sammy had only been there for the last part. The first part had me almost ready to wake him up and demand answers he couldn't give me. The words he said still haunt me. "Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me! Dad, please." This had been followed by a short pause, then "Where's Dad? Go check on him. Go check on him. Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it. Sam, no." Then he had been silent for a while. I had sat waiting to see if he said anything else. He started again as I was leaving, but this time it just sounded like normal banter between him and his brother. That was the part Sammy had walked in on. I sat back by his side, hoping that maybe he would give me a clue as to what it was I was supposed to stop.

Why had he been begging me to not let something kill him? I would never stand by and watch one of my sons being hurt. As I sat watching him he stirred. His eyes opened and he gave me a slight smile.

"Checking up on me? Why's Sammy back?"

I smiled back. "Jim couldn't take it anymore, Sammy was driving him crazy." Dean laughed, immediately wincing as it pulled on his cut.

"Sit up so I can look at it." I said, flipping the bedside light on. He did and I pulled back the gauze. It was looking a little better. I felt his forehead, and it still felt rather warm.

"Take some more Tylenol, you still feel like you have a fever. But I think you're gonna live, son."

"Why'd you call him son?" Sammy asked from the doorway. Dean and I both looked at him, then at each other.

"Sometimes older people call everyone…"

"Because Sammy, this is your brother, Dean…" we both answered at the same time. Sammy looked at us, then walked in and climbed up onto the bed. He stared intently at Dean for a moment, then looked at me.

"How come he gets to be a grown up? I wanna be a grown up! It's not fair!" Arms crossed and a frown on his face, he glared at me. I gathered him into my arms.

"Well Sammy, there was this statue. Dean accidentally," I shot him a look, "touched it. And when he did, he traded places with your brother. Your brother is with a grown up you."

Sammy took a moment to think this through. Then he looked over at Dean and frowned. "How come Dean always gets to go on the adventures? I wanna go to! It's not fair!"

Without missing a beat, Dean looked at him and said, "When you're a little bit older, you'll get to go on adventures too! I promise."

Sammy seemed to accept that and headed off to go play. Dean leaned back and sighed.

"He still questions everything." Dean said. I looked over at him, surprised somewhat.

"Sammy that is, always with the questions." Dean sighed. "Which I suppose is a good thing, cause otherwise, I'd probably get in more trouble than I already do."

I nodded, not really sure what to say. Dean's eyes drifted shut, and for a moment I thought he had fallen asleep.

"Hey dad, remember that Shtriga?"

He still hadn't opened his eyes. "Yes," I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, but that was fresh in my memory. At first I had been so angry at Dean for not listening to me, but later I realized I had been the one to blame. It shouldn't be Dean's responsibility to keep Sammy safe.

"I'm sorry I screwed that up for you. But…" he trailed off, and I wondered what he wanted to say. "I don't know if I'm supposed to say this or not, but I got it. Later…years later. You sent me after it again, and I got it."

I didn't know what to say.

"Good to know."

"And remember that kid you saved from the werewolf? She sends you a letter of thanks the day she graduates high school."

"Dean…" he needed to stop, before he said something he shouldn't.

"And that lady, who was pregnant, who you saved from the poltergeist…she…"

"Dean!" I said it more forcefully, and he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Dean, stop son…you shouldn't tell me any of this."

"I want to. I want to tell you everything so things won't be so screwed up when I get back." He closed his eyes again. "When I traded places with that other me, I didn't want to go back. I knew Sammy needed me, but I didn't want to leave. And I know I have to find a way to go back now, but…Maybe, just maybe I could tell you what you need to know, so that when I get back it'll be different." The look on his face, the sadness in his eyes killed me. I wanted nothing more than to fix what was broken, but knew I couldn't.

"It doesn't work that way and you know that, son. Everything happens for a reason. Now go back to sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up."

I stood up and he closed his eyes. I waited in the doorway until his breathing evened out. Then I headed to go fix Sammy some lunch.

-----

Little Dean was feeling better by mid afternoon. He still stayed in bed while I went and got us an early dinner. He had books and paper spread all around him on the bed and he was studying it all intently. We ate in silence, then I checked the bandages. All looked well so I went back to looking stuff up on the computer. While my Dean seemed to think the only way to reverse this was for him to learn something, I wasn't giving up on trying to find a solution just yet. I'd stop at nothing to get them switched. And I think 10 year old Dean felt the same way.

-----

I woke up and knew instantly that the fever had broken. I got up, and walked into the living room. Dad was sitting on the couch, Sammy tucked in his arms, fast asleep. I started to sneak back to my room, not wanting to interrupt, but paused when I heard dad talking.

"Sammy, I don't know what I'm going to do. I never wanted any harm to come to you boys, but I think I put too much of a burden on Dean's shoulders. I blamed him for the Shtriga when I should've blamed myself. I've always made you his responsibility, even though he's just a kid. He carries so much weight and I can see in his older self that it's still there. You kids never had a childhood and that's my fault. I wish I could say I'd change, but I'm not sure if I know how. But I do know that if I get my Dean back, I'll do my best to make things better for you kids."

I took a step forward, not sure what I was going to say to dad, but knowing I needed to say something. However when I did, I found myself falling flat on my face. I let out a groan and lifted up to see a confused yet relieved 24 year old Sammy. I blinked and then grinned at him.

"Never ever ever again, I swear!" He walked over, helped me get up. I winced at the pull in my back. "Broken glass, long story," I said by way of explanation.

"I know, Dad left me a note in the journal. Which was good because I was freaking out when 10 year old you ended up with a cut back. By the way, where'd the bruises come from?"

"He got cut? And bruised? The hell happened? Dad and I sparred, that's how I got bruised. You're saying what happened to me happened to him? Poor kid, must've been freaked."

Sam nodded. "So what was it? What did you have to learn?"

I thought about all the things dad had said. I never knew he felt like that, I had always thought he blamed me for the Shtriga. I guess I just had to hear him say it. But there was no way I was telling Sammy that. So instead I shrugged. "Not sure, as you saw I wasn't really expecting to walk off the bed. We'll probably never know." Sam gave me that look that I had seen on dad's face all too recently. But being a good brother he dropped it.

"Well it's good to have you back. We've got a cult to deal with and a statue to destroy. Without you touching it!"

"I swear, my statue days are over. Never ever again, I promise. Not even if it's a hot female statue!!"

Sam rolled his eyes at me and began gathering the papers from the bed.

-----

I sat watching Sammy sleep. I knew I had to do better with my boys, somehow. I heard the floor creak behind me and I turned, guiltily. I hoped Dean hadn't heard what I had just said to Sammy. I almost dropped him as I stood suddenly, not believing what I was seeing. There staring at me with wide eyes was my 10 year old son.

"Dad?" he asked, his voice a little shaky. Sammy must've woken up when I stood because he suddenly launched himself from my arms and at his brother.

"Dean!!" Sam threw his arms around his brother and hugged him tightly. I didn't miss the wince that crossed his face. He quickly disentangled himself from his brother.

"Easy Sammy I got a cut on my back." I walked around the couch and knelt down, drawing both boys into my arms.

"Oh God Dean I missed you. How did you get hurt?" I looked him over, deciding he looked no worse for the wear.

"I don't know, whatever happened to my older version happened to me. But Sammy did a good job stitching me up and I'm feeling fine. I'm glad to be home dad. I missed you and Sammy too!"

We all went out for dinner, at a pizza place the boys chose. I watched them play as I wrote a quick note in the journal. It wasn't much, but it was all I could really do.

-----

I opened the journal to see if there was any information on our latest hunt. It had been a week since I had gotten back and Sam had finally agreed that I had healed enough to hunt. I flipped rapidly knowing most of it by heart now, but stopped at a page that I didn't recognize. It had dad's handwriting on it but was addressed to me.

'Dean,

I'm not sure if you heard what I said that day or not, but I meant it. I hope you're healing well, your younger self is doing fine. I'm sorry for whatever happened in the future to cause you so much pain, but know that I never wanted for your life to be like this. However I can't just turn my back on the job. I feel what we do is necessary even if it means we sacrifice our lives to do it. Please know that I've always been proud of you, now more so than before. Take care and always watch out for your brother.

Dad'

I read it three times before ripping the page out and throwing it in the garbage. I didn't want Sam to see it, though I wasn't sure why. I wiped at the tear that found it's way from my eye and quickly went back to work looking for the information we needed. Dad was dead and nothing would change that. All Sam and I could do was move forward and not look back.


End file.
